In a field one summer’s day a Grasshopper was hopping about, chirping and singing to its heart’s content. An Ant passed by, bearing along with great toil an ear of corn he was taking to the nest.
“Why not come and chat with me,” said the Grasshopper, “instead of toiling and moiling in that way?”
“I am helping to lay up food for the winter,” said the Ant, “and recommend you to do the same.”
“Why bother about winter?” said the Grasshopper; “We have plenty of food at present.”But the Ant went on its way and continued its toil. When the winter came the Grasshopper had no food and found itself dying of hunger, while it saw the ants distributing every day corn and grain from the stores they had collected in the summer. Then the Grasshopper knew:
It is best to prepare for the days of necessity.
I was traveling to my office today afternoon. Being a Saturday, trains were comfortably empty and I was standing at the door. Standing next to me was a guy, probably in his late twenties, who boarded the train from Thane. From his dressing and accent, he sounded from some uptown Mumbai area. Poor guy… he was in tears and sobbing and all. He was repeatedly calling up his female friend, R, who was not entertaining his call. Apparently R had asked our guy to ditch S before he could be her boyfriend, but after some time R ditched him and went away with P.
Some (vanilla) excerpts from their loud talk:
“R, how can you do this to me, R?”
“I did so much for you…. I even stopped talking to S, but still you are getting unreasonable day by day. I can’t take this R”
“Don’t cut the phone R; I want to talk to you”
“Is that P? Is that P? Tell me! I can hear him in the background…. Are you with P? Answer me R”
“You want me to hang up? You want me to hang up? Why? So that you can go and hug P again?”
“You are so cheap R, cant you get enough of guys?”
“You created mistrust between me and S. Why did you do that? I had already told her exactly what you asked me to”
“I don’t want to talk to you R. Don’t ever call up again”
“R, I’m sorry. Talk to me please, I don’t want to hang up”
At that point, my destination (Kurla) arrived, and I got down.
I don’t understand how people, even at this age, can’t be in control of their emotions. Ok, now don’t get judgmental here. I’m all for sympathy towards the sobbing man, but the situation is too juvenile to sob about. All this melodrama is too filmi and artificial.
Nevertheless he provided some entertainment to everyone in the compartment by yelling, crying and blabbering about relationships among his friends. Meanwhile the telepone operator made money.
Is our ‘K’ queen reading this?
One never puts thought while forwarding junk mail to friends and acquaintances – it happens by habit.
Yesterday, I sent this to Ibel, my office colleague-
As I was passing the elephants, I suddenly stopped, confused by the fact that these huge creatures were being held by only a small rope tied to their front leg. No chains, no cages. It was obvious that the elephants could, at anytime, break away from their bonds but for some reason, they did not.
I saw a trainer near by and asked why these beautiful, magnificent animals just stood there and made no attempt to get away. “Well,” he said, “when they are very young and much smaller we use the same size rope to tie them and, at that age, it’s enough to hold them. As they grow up, they are conditioned to believe they cannot break away.
They believe the rope can still hold them, so they never try to break free.” I was amazed. These animals could at any time break free from their bonds but because they believed they couldn’t, they were stuck right where they were.
Like the elephants, how many of us go through life hanging onto a belief that we cannot do something, simply because we failed at it once before?
True …Right???
And her reply was:
Good one. But there is something else that I learnt from this passage.
Just a thought went through my mind, is training a little child when he / she is young. When you bond the child in the right values in their childhood, they will find it difficult to deviate or break from it when they are old enough (though they can break it). It makes it so much important for parents to be able to tie them to the right values when they are very young. Like the older elephants, they are conditioned to believe that they cannot break it very easily.
I am thinking on a different line than the moral of the passage given below. Thanks for the mail. It was nice to read it.
No wonder we (Indians in particular) judge a person by the family he/she comes from. It may be possible to change some behaviors in adult life, but the values inculcated during childhood prevail.
Amit, elder brother of my close friend Amod got married today. I accompanied the bridegroom’s group to Baramati, the hometown of the politician Sharad Pawar and hotspot of the Sugar belt in western Maharashtra. The place is six hours away from Dombivli and I went there by bus, accompanied by another friend Debu (Devendra) and Amod’s family and relatives.
The bus journey started with the cries proclaiming victory for Lord Mahavira one of the 24 Tirthankars of Jain religion, followed by the Namokar Mantra and some other devotional songs. Scene changed next to antakshari and other entertainment.
On reaching Baramati in the evening, the bride’s family welcomed us and ushered us into the Mahavir Bhavan ceremony hall – which was a square building with accommodation rooms on east and north sides, kitchen and dining area on south and wedding stage to the west. Central area was not constructed and was simply covered with colorful, decorative piece of cloth.
After brief rest and cleaning up, the ceremony of Introduction, called bheti-gathi was initiated. Family members from the two sides met each other, exchanged pleasantries and embraces. Members from each family are officially introduced at this point.
After this, the priest setup the holy kalash, the Engagement ceremony began. The bride arrived, dressed in bright saffron saree and the bridegroom in white sherwani. They exchanged wedding rings accompanied by cheering by the guests and chanting of mantras by the priest. The couple were officially committed to the wedding.
The Haldi ceremony began. Here, a turmeric paste is applied to the bride and the bridegroom by the guests. The significance of haldi ceremony is that the aspiring couple is not supposed to go out and expose themselves. Haldi is also an antiseptic and nourishes the skin so that it glows. This paste was later washed in a separate ceremony.
The next day, the groom and his guests left in the morning in a procession accompanied by band, music and dancing. They took a small path and arrived at the wedding location as a symbolic gesture which marks arrival of the bridegroom to the village of the bride for marriage. The groom and the barati (marriage party) were welcomed and Simant Pujan, or puja at the boundary was conducted by bride’s mother.
Maternal uncles accompanied the couple to the wedding stage, where they were separated by a piece of cloth and showered with blessings and good wishes in the form of poetry, called mangalashtak. At precise auspicious time (mahurat), the cloth is lowered and the bride and bridegroom exchange flower garlands. The boy tied the manglsutra or the wedding necklace to the girl and while the priest administered the oath. The couple was officially declared as married.
The rest of the rituals followed. The couple took 7 rounds around the fire symbolizing the cosmos. Following this and some more intricate customs, the marriage ceremony was completed and the guests were offered lunch.
On duty as unofficial wedding photographer, my task started right from taking pictures when departing from Dombivli till we arrived back, 37 hours later. I took approximately 220 shots, of which I guess around 20% are experiments and repeat shots. I’ve seen the results and they don’t look bad!
This was my first Jain wedding. In India, rituals and customs being flavored by local traditions are never the same everywhere – Gujrati Jains and Marwari Jains for example may have different rituals altogether.
This was a googly for people who know me, for I’m known to exhibit disinterest in the game of cricket and show an apathetic attitude whenever anyone speaks about it. But on Monday 28th Nov, I witnessed the live clash of the champions – India and South Africa at the fifth one day international (ODI) match at Wankhede Stadium in Mumbai. Prachi, my bachpan ki friendi had got free passes for the two of us.
While in the queue for security checks, the gigantic structure of the cricket stadium which had a theoretical capacity of accommodating 40,000 spectators looked overwhelming. Add to that the sound emerging out of the colossal construction, and it is bound to raise your heartbeat to exciting levels.
We entered the stadium and hopelessly tried to get to our seats. Soon we gave up the effort as, evidently, the number of people in the stands was at least twenty percent greater than those allowed and it was too crowded to move. This was verified by newspapers next day which proclaimed that about 10,000 extra tickets were sold – that’s 25% more. phew! The crowd was dominated by youngsters and more importantly – considerable number of pretty ones 
Finding our way to the top row and settling down, I took some time to understand what was happening around. Tens of thousands of people – young and old, men and women, all dressed up in colorful clothes, with banners, flags, placards, posters, etc waving in air. Most of the people were on their feet and chanting slogans or simply jumping around and screaming at the top of their voice. The stadium rocked in union when the South African team arrived to bat and Indian team to field.
Collective energy of the crowd when converted would have been able to provide power to the whole city. All occasions – SA wicket, or Indian fours, sixes and even quick singles were awarded with thunderous applause and cheering by the crowd. The spirit of sportsmanship was evident as the fans clapped and acknowledged sharp fielding or good bowling by the guest team. Even the home team was not spared by the jeering when they made any mistakes.
Highlights were the sizzling innings by Saching Tendulkar and Virender Sehwag. Rahul Dravid played the captain’s innings and won the match for us.
Important thing I realized was that the cricketers who are just few feet away from us are simple human beings. Like other humans, they slip, fall, goof up, and do all natural errors. It’s quite easy to watch them on TV and blame them for everything, but the pressure under which they perform under the scanner of a live audience – Indian audience – is definitely commendable.
And now I’m addicted. Let’s see when I can get the next chance!
Can you imagine doing things as diverse as one, appearing for TOEFL exam at Saki-Vihar, two, relishing sizzlers at Andheri and three sipping tea at a shanty in Matheran – all in less than a day? I narrate today’s story while wriggling in my chair stuffed with soft pillows to position my sore butt and wondering how the human mind can work in such a bizarre manner.
I turn up with my friend Vaibhav at the TOEFL test centre off Saki Vihar Road near Sakinaka. After we emerge triumphant (I scored 260-297 / 300) at around noon, we notice our gastric juices already grumbling against the lack of availability of anything to consume. Some serious deliberations completed and we land at Kobe’s, near Marol, Andheri, a place better known for its sizzlers. (Courtesy Seema). A Sizzling Chicken with Pepper and a small dose of rice almost suffice our appetite; nevertheless we still plan to hang out at Pizza hut or Galleria at Hiranandani, Powai.
Stopping at Sakinaka signal, Vaibhav suggests that we go to Matheran on his bike. I’m initially stunned to hear this, but I agree immediately, and in no time we change the course towards Matheran. A two hour drive on occasionally smooth road takes us at Dasturi and by four in the evening; we are sipping tea at a shanty near ‘Welcome to Matheran’ railway platform.
We find ourselves on a pleasant short break from the routine life in the arms of Matheran, the smallest hill station in the world, a unique location barely 100 km away from Mumbai and a place where entry of vehicles is prohibited. At five thirty we depart after stocking ourselves with some chikki and wild honey and we reach outskirts of Dombivli by seven in late evening.
I am usually a time-table kind of guy but often exhibiting such sudden bursts. Glad to know Vaibhav too gets his kicks by similar fashion, no surprises – ‘Birds of a feather flock together’ as he better puts it. I must once again acknowledge his superior driving skills – to which I’m totally used to – but today he drove almost 200 km which calls for a seven gun salute.
Now tackling the itchy hair that have housed probably a kilo of dust and dirt. Special note: If you notice me raising my posterior and resting it down again, that doesn’t mean I’m farting, but I’m simply trying to make it comfortable.
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